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how to make money as an investment manager

Release date: 2022-12-06 05:42:37 Author:NyARsLRQ

But Paul is already inside, scanning the first floor. Without a word, he's deep into the house.

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

"That's why the police took Vincent in," he says. "I told them I saw Vincent near Dickinson when Bill was shot."

"That's why the police took Vincent in," he says. "I told them I saw Vincent near Dickinson when Bill was shot."

I can hear it in his voice, the accusation sneaking in. Everything returns to the moment I pushed Taft.

"Threatening you with the letter?"

"It's the only other place he could've hidden it."

Slush sprays the undercarriage of the car as the suspension dances over a pothole.

A light in the neighboring house comes on, but Paul pays no attention. He paces up to Taft's front porch and puts his ear to the door, gently rapping.

The wind hisses around the door as he opens it, muffling his words. I can see Paul mouth something to us, pointing at the house. He begins hiking toward it in the snow.

"He's still at the police station," Paul says, almost to himself. "The lights are off."

The houses before us are fashioned in white clapboard. At Taft's address, all windows are unlit. Just beyond them stands the tree line of the Institute woods, its canopy tinseled in white.

"Threatening you with the letter?"

I can hear it in his voice, the accusation sneaking in. Everything returns to the moment I pushed Taft.

"What do we do?" Gil says, beside him.

But Paul is already inside, scanning the first floor. Without a word, he's deep into the house.

"Damn it." Gil brings the Saab to a halt and gets out. "Paul"

Gil doesn't even hear us. Shaken by the sight of Taft's house, he lightens pressure on the brakes, letting us roll in neutral, prepared to go back. Just as his foot begins to engage the clutch, though, Paul yanks the door handle and stumbles out onto the curb.

Paul knocks again, then pulls a ring of keys from his pocket and cradles one into the slot. Putting a shoulder into the wood, he sweeps the door forward. Hinges squeal.

"That's why the police took Vincent in," he says. "I told them I saw Vincent near Dickinson when Bill was shot."

"He knew he had nothing on me. So he started in on your dad."

"That's why the police took Vincent in," he says. "I told them I saw Vincent near Dickinson when Bill was shot."

A light in the neighboring house comes on, but Paul pays no attention. He paces up to Taft's front porch and puts his ear to the door, gently rapping.

But Paul is already inside, scanning the first floor. Without a word, he's deep into the house.

"Is this it?" Gil says.

"I'm the one who called the police too," he says.

I'm waiting for Gil to react, but he keeps his eyes on the road. Staring at the back of Paul's head, I have the strange sensation of looking at myself from behind, of being inside my father's car again.

"Vincent. This morning."

"He knew he had nothing on me. So he started in on your dad."

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